Stay
by ilovetvalot
Summary: After a beautiful night together, Aaron Hotchner can't stand the thoughts of letting her go.


_**Author's Note: A few forum announcements for today, fellow authors and readers. First, you have ONE day left to sign-up for Writing Challenge Number 8 - "The New Years Challenge" at Chit Chat on Author's Corner.**_

_**We have also opened signups for our first annual "Valentine's Fic Gift Exchange". Signups are thru January 31st for this one. Simply name the pairings you are willing to write, the pairing you would like to receive as a gift, one famous long song and three Valentine's Day prompts.**_

_**Details for both challenges can be found at the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. We'd love to have each one of you.**_

_**Finally, new Fortune Cookie prompts are available at the forum for those of us that need a kick start to our writing muses.**_

_**As ever, thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate each one of you. And because I haven't said it in a while, we (neither ilovetvalot or tonnie2001969) own Criminal Minds (though we really wish we did).**_

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**Stay**

"Stay."

His voice sounds harsh even to his own ears when he makes the request. A request that doesn't really sound like a request at all. It sounds like an order...an imperative. And, if he's honest, he supposes that it is. An imperative, that is.

But for which one of them?

Watching her leave now would rip out what remained of his heart, and he knew it. But he doesn't know how to express that. He doesn't want to appear weak. It felt like he'd spent a lifetime being weak...a lifetime apologizing for one thing or another, first, to his father, and then, later, to Haley. He was beyond weary of begging for understanding.

But he knows she hasn't done anything to earn his venom. She, who has shared her body with him freely...sweetly. She's brought light back into his darkness. He owes her for that and he knows it.

He realizes abruptly that he still has his hand clamped around her milky white wrist in an iron grip. Wincing, he releases her quickly, almost like her flesh has burned him and he regrets it instantly. He can see the indecision shining in her eyes. She's uncertain now.

"I'm sorry," he tells her gruffly, ashamed of himself…again.

"It's okay, Aaron," she tells him softly, her easy smile playing on her lips. "I'll stay if that's what you want. I just didn't want to push you for something you weren't ready to share. I know how much you value your privacy."

His privacy? He feels like he's shown her a piece of his soul and she's worried about intruding on his privacy. It's funny, but he can't laugh. It's too sad to laugh about. Because, honestly, she has a point. If it were anybody but her, he would be praying that she'd leave quietly…quickly. He'd be almost begging for his solitude. But with her…it's different.

This woman knows him, however. Sometimes he thinks she knows him better than he knows himself. He's aware of how trite it sounds, but it doesn't make the statement any less true. He's often theorized that she might well have some form of psychic ability; she seemed to anticipate his needs so well. "It's what I want," he tells her in a voice barely above audible.

He's holding his breath when she slips back underneath the cool sheets, and he shivers as the flapping fabric creates a draft.

"Cold?" she whispers in the darkness, her simple word an honest question.

"Maybe a little," he admits, slipping his arm around her narrow waist. He's silently grateful she's given him a reason to explain the need he feels to tug her closer. It's a hell of a lot easier to blame the chill in the air than his own neediness at the moment. He isn't quite ready to face how profoundly the night has affected him yet, and luckily for him, she seems to understand this.

Lying behind her, he concentrates on the warmth of their bodies pressed together and unconsciously their breaths seem to synchronize. He inhales, she exhales...and on and on. He feels her turn in his arms, her breath warm against his neck as her head settles on his bicep and he feels his heart flop in his chest. It feels natural to lie here with her like this, and it mystifies him because natural isn't something he's experienced in years.

His breath catches in his throat as her hand idly skates down his chest, tangling with the thick patch of hair matting his chest. And that quickly, the rhythm of their breathing is disrupted. His heart beats faster as soft lips press against his collar bone. Her touch is tentative at best, as if she's not quite certain of her reception.

He can't blame her. At his best and most open, he knew he was a hard man to read. And when he was attempting to camouflage his emotions...well, she couldn't be blamed for her insecurity. He wants to reassure her...to let her know that this night has meant something to him...that she means something to him, and he silently curses his inability to communicate.

Once, he was a master with words - a litigator that had been complimented by a Supreme Court Justice on his way with prose. Of course, that, too, had been a lifetime ago. Now, he was like an awkward boy...shy and introverted.

And again, as if by magic, she knows what he needs to hear.

"It's okay, Aaron," she breathes in the shadow shrouded room.

He closes his eyes and sends up a prayer thanking God for her purity...her grace. He knows he's done nothing to deserve her, but he's wise enough to recognize that women like her seldom came along in life. He won't let her go without a fight, even if it means cracking the shell he's been encased inside for far too long.

He doesn't expect what she says next, though, and if he's truthful, he can admit that her words do give him hope that, perhaps, he's not entirely beyond repair. That maybe he isn't so damaged that, with a lot of hard work, he couldn't be fixed.

"I don't want this to be a one night stand."

His arm contracts around her waist as he hears her soft words. "I don't want that either." Mentally grimacing over his lack of finesse, he wishes, not for the first time, that he was better at verbalizing his emotions. It's true that he's never had Rossi's skill at seduction or Morgan's golden tongue, but he is honest and he means the words coming out of his mouth.

Inhaling deeply as her gentle fingers falter in their exploration of his chest, he meets her gaze when she lifts wide eyes to his. "Really?" he hears her say, a faint tremble audible.

Trailing his hand down her arm, he nods slowly and feels as much as hears her release a shaky breath in a whoosh. He smiles as she seems to relax, her body melting into his mattress as the tension ebbs from her body.

And he knows...this is a beginning, not an ending. His opportunity for a future is here in bed with him.

And he makes a conscious decision to make the most of it.

Finis


End file.
